


Commencement

by CarrotsandDragons



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, and the others are there for a short while, anders shows up at the end, it's mostly about her, on the longish side of things, the parts with her friends are cute tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrotsandDragons/pseuds/CarrotsandDragons
Summary: "I hope I’m not bothering you serah-” She was, but Filia wouldn’t tell her right off the bat, “-I spoke to a woman and she pointed me towards you. She said you could help me get Justice for my Brother. He…was made Tranquil…”Filia’s smile faded into something more scathing as her heart sank down to her knees. Oh, she wanted to speak with pity but simply nodded instead, all thoughts of home and her favorite dinner pressing back into her memory.“What do you want me to do?”-They say you never forget your first (time murdering someone in their own back yard) and for Hawke that fact remain's true.In for a long day of helping people and hunting Templars, Filia remembers how she came to be who she is today.





	

**Author's Note:**

> noun: a beginning or start.
> 
> Another one from tumblr I felt like sharing.

_They say you never forget your first–and it’s true; I’ll never forget the first person I killed. **  
**_

_He was our neighbor._

_He had a wife, a few chickens, and a dog that always barked at me._

_They were loud, messy, and painstakingly devout, but friendly in a way devout Andrastian’s can never be._

_When I killed him, everything went silent:_

_His face was covered with deep purple bruises, and a puddle of blood leaked out to stain the hay and wooden panels on the floor._

_I murdered a man behind his own barn when I was 16 years old._

_And I don’t regret a single thing…_

* * *

She pried the rusty dagger from the thief’s swollen fingers, and, with little more than a roll of her eyes, pressed the blade beneath his quivering jaw.

The leather grip was faded, worn away by years of use. Still, it fit strong and sturdy in her hand, good for at least one last use.

“Today just isn’t your day is it?” She smiled, though the knife in her hand made her true intent clear. 

It shouldn’t come to violence, but if it did, Filia would be ready.

She brushed her hand against the sword at her hip, a silent dare for him to try something daring. Though not dressed in full for battle, she was never not prepared.

Strong, tall, and with at least two blades on her person, she could overtake him easily; with his back already pressed against the cold stone wall of the alley, the only option he had was surrender.

“Alright!” He shouted, his voice low and raspy as though he swallowed the water from the sea, “alright. I’ll give you what you want just..don’t kill me.”

“Easy isn’t it? And to think: all of this could have been avoided if you didn’t run from me.” She pulled the knife away from his throat and twirled it around her fingers–calm and unfazed. Actually, she appeared quite cheerful as he unstrapped the coin purse from his belt and passed it to her tired, shaking fingers. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.” She bowed like a true noblewoman: poised and graceful with just enough bend at the knee.

Coin acquired, she turned on her heel and began her ascension from the shadows. 

The thief, however,  spat on the ground behind her, cursing ‘those damned mercenaries,’ as he heaved shallow, ragged,  breaths.

“Hold on a moment.” He caught her attention once more. And though her voice was as wistful as a sigh, the man flinched at her approach.

He didn’t want to deal with her–not again. She was like no other mercenary he’s faced:

Her tone was too light, too casual to match her actions and there was no give, no tell, behind her amber-colored eyes so he didn’t know what to make of her smile or casual ease.

“I don’t got nothing else!” He raised his arms in protest, as if to shout his surrender at the sky. “I-”

She punched him in the face, there was a crack, and a fall that left him writhing.

His sentence, though sincere, remained unspoken as his words melted into the moans of agony.

“That was for pulling the knife on me– Bastard.” She announced, checking for signs of his blood on her hands. “Who _does_ that?”

Satisfied with her cleanliness, treasure, and revenge, Filia stepped out from the passage. The low light of the setting sun cast long, eerie shadows across the dock as people and birds hurried by.  

She hoped to return the coin to its rightful owner who took but a few moments to find.

Skinny, pointed, and with a penchant for throwing things, the woman stood calmly near a fruit seller’s stall, scowling at all who passed her by.

The exchange was short, sweet, and simple–Filia’s favorite type.

She smiled to herself, eager to return home for dinner early.

Or, rather, that was her plan, anyway.

Before she could depart and fulfill her simple dream, a soft, uneasy voice spoke to her from behind.  

“Excuse me Serah, are you…Hawke?”

“That’s me,” she sighed, exasperated as she crossed her arms across her chest, “ ‘Serah Hawke’ at  your–everyone else’s–service.” She spoke, but as she turned to face her ‘client,’ Filia fixed her face into something less mocking. “Yes?”

She was a short, tired-looking woman with sickly pale skin and great brown eyes much too large for her face (though she certainly wasn’t one to judge that particular feature at all.) Still, despite her stature, the woman stood firm; she looked up into her eyes as they talked, though her speech comprised of a near constant whisper.

“I hope I’m not bothering you serah-” She was, but Filia wouldn’t tell her right off the bat, “-I spoke to a woman and she pointed me towards you. She said you could help me get Justice for my Brother. He…was made Tranquil…”

Filia’s smile faded into something more scathing as her heart sank down to her knees. Oh, she wanted to speak with pity but simply nodded instead, all thoughts of home and her favorite dinner pressing back into her memory.

“What do you want me to do?”

They stepped back into the narrow alley so that they could speak freely.

* * *

_I was 7 years old when I saw my first Templar. He stalked around our yard before coming to the door._

_He, to no one’s surprise,  was looking for apostates._

_I was too little, too close to the ground, and too scared to do anything to stop him but I knew I had to stay calm._

_He tore through our house, barked orders at my Mother, who was heavily pregnant with the twins at the time, and left when he didn’t find what he wanted–someone to steal away._

_I’ve never seen my Father so shaken or look so angry before then. His dinner went cold and uneaten on the table and he barely spoke until the very next day._

_But even then he could only tell me it would be alright._

_I’ll never forget the face of that wretched man–the monster who tried to tear apart my family._

_I hated him more than anything._

_So when I encountered him again almost ten years later in Lothering?_

_I stabbed him right through the heart._

* * *

Cora was the woman’s name and Filia promised to help her.

Her brother, Donnan, was made Tranquil by a Red-Headed Templar with a horse-like face and a long facial scar.

“I spent my last coin on the information so I don’t have much to offer you but-”

“You don’t have to pay me,” She shook her head to reject the coin Corra produced from between bosom, “Just tell me where he’ll be tonight.”

Few took the time to peer into the alley where they choose to conduct their business, each hoping to catch a glimpse of some steamy, scandalous or adulterous affair. Needless to say they were disappointed to find two women plotting murder instead.

“Lowtown. He’ll be near the foundries. It’s usually quiet and they like being with the girls who work there at night so… so there won’t be many others on patrol. One of them can tell me when he’s there for sure.”

“Good.” Filia nodded. “And you?” “I…I don’t need to be there when you do it.” Well, that was new.

“You don’t want to watch?” Filia raised a curious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“N-No thank you serah.” Cora shifted her stance, “I…it’s…enough just to know he won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Alright then. How about you meet me at the Hanged Man when your friend lets you know he’s around.”

“Thank You serah. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“No need. I’m more than happy to help you.”

* * *

_When I was 13 I saved up enough coin to buy a sword under Father’s supervision._

_I did chores for our neighbors and accepted anything they could pay till the Smith let me know I had enough for something simple._

_It wasn’t particularly sturdy or nice–but it was real and it was mine._

_I didn’t have any opponents, Carver was barely 6 at the time, but I had dummies made from cloth and hay and I practiced every day between Mothers lessons on etiquette and working on the neighbor’s farm._

_Some nights, the twins would have trouble sleeping–Bethany would cling onto my shirt but Carver…Carver always put on a brave face._

_But they were both scared of Templars coming to take our Father away. And so was I._

_But I wouldn’t let that happen._

_I wouldn’t  let anyone take my family away._

_I started sleeping with my sword within reach just in case._

* * *

She asked Varric to verify Cora’s information and the intel was correct.

Filia was sure it wasn’t a trap, but that didn’t mean her friends weren’t worried.

“Do you need us to come with you, Hawke? Will you be alright alone?” Merrill frowned, her lower lip jutting ever so slightly as she placed her cards on the table.

“No need to worry Kitten, Hawke’ll be there and back before we know it.” Isabela smiled to settled her concern; she also stole a look at the cards in Merrill’s hand before placing down her own across the table.

Business was slow today.

The usual murmurs and curses yelled across the room were replaced by the snores and chuckles of the most seasoned patrons. Still, the old tables and stained wooden chairs were strewn about the room like always and the strange talkative man prattled on and on about stories one can’t control.

“Besides Merrill, Varric’ll be with me. He’s making sure everything is right with what Cora said.” Filia squinted at her hand.  She couldn’t possibly win tonight.“I fold.”

“Oh, I just remembered, I spoke with Philomena right before leaving home. She said you found the thief that stole all her money away. She seemed a lot less grumpy.”

“Sounds like someone had a busy day.” Isabela shook her head at the cards Merrill tried to play, encouraging her to go back and pick a better hand.  “Where’s Anders? He lives for this sort of deal doesn’t he?”

“I thought about asking him to join me, but I didn’t want to take him out the clinic today.” Filia sighed, resting her head against her palm to watch the rest of the game.

“Oh? Is that where he’s been spending his free time lately?”

She could feel the smirk and implications in Isabela’s voice, like velvet on an autumn day.

Merrill played the winning hand of the evening and the group settled on drinking to wash their worries away. Before long, however, Cora wandered through the door–anxious, nearly shaking.

It was time for Filia to leave.

“Stay with Isabela and Merrill. You can drink on my tab but don’t get too carried away.”

As she gathered the pieces of the armor she kept stashed with Varric just in case, Filia assured her client of their plans validity.

“You’ve done this before haven’t you?” Corra, in contrast to Filia’s own demeanor,  became rather shaken as sunset progressed into the evening.

“More times than I can remember actually.”

* * *

_We spent a lot of time moving from place to place._

_Once, we settled down in a village near Denerim but didn’t stay there very long; A few weeks after her 8th birthday, Bethany discovered she was a mage._

_Carver ripped the head from her favorite doll and she chased him around the yard screaming._

_I took my eyes off them for a moment and before I knew what happened, Carver yelped out in pain. He was laying on his back in the grass as though someone flung him far away._

_Bethany was so scared: she stood frozen in place–her arms extended forward as though she’d merely pushed him away._

_Our neighbor stood on the edge of the pathway, his basket of goods on the ground at his feet._

_He knew our secret._

_I had to do something._

* * *

They found three Templars patrolling near the foundries. The rest of the Squadron wouldn’t be too far behind.

“What’s the plan, Hawke?” Varric asked though he already knew the answer: There was no plan, they’d simply kill every Templar they see.

“The usual.” She shrugged and somehow he knew her meaning.

Peering out from behind the wall, Filia hummed as she studied their positions. The two archers weren’t a problem–the warrior was the man in question– he was the one she needed to defeat.

“You hang back. I’ll handle the fun part.”

“You know Hawke… it isn’t too late to get Blondie in on this.”

“No.” She told him firmly, “we can handle this on our own.” He was safe at home–or so she assumed, she hadn’t been back since morning–and was more than content to let him be.

* * *

_I’ll never forget the first person I killed._

_He was our neighbor._

_He had a wife, a few chickens, and a dog that always barked at me._

_They were loud, messy, painstakingly devout, but friendly in a way devout Andrastian’s can never truly be._

_When I killed him, everything went silent:_

_His face was covered with deep purple bruises, and a puddle of blood leaked out to stain the hay and wooden panels on the floor._

_I was so scared when it ended–when I took his life away._

_It was dark, and there was nothing but the sound of my own breathing once his body hit the floor._

_My fists, my shoes, my sword,  my skirt–everything was stained with his blood. My arms were marked with the impression of his fingers from when he begged me to stop the beating._

_But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. He would have told._

_By the time my Father found me, the deed had already been done._

_We didn’t tell Mother, or Carver, and especially not Bethany._

* * *

He was cornered.

His squadron was dead–fallen and broken on the ground like marionettes at her feet. He crawled over their bodies, limped through the blood that poured like wine from the punctured holes in of their armor just to escape her fury–but it made no difference.

She caught him anyway.

“Why so quick to leave the party? I thought it was just getting fun.” Varric stood guard across the foundry, waiting and watching in case more backup arrived.

“You’re just a mercenary right? Whatever you’re being paid I’ll double it!” He yelled out in pain.

Now that’s just pathetic.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I took this job for free.” She taunted, happy to add insult to injury.

Out of options for negotiation, the templar took to begging.

“I have a family! A daughter!” She paused for a moment, right before his throat met the edge of her blade.

“Tell me, did you ever consider the families of the mages you made Tranquil? Or the children you take from their Mother’s arms? The daughters you,” she emphasized, “tried to make Fatherless?”

“What?” He shook. Varric got him with an arrow through the knee so the Templar needed a wall to stand upright.

“I’ll take your stupidity as a no,” she scowled.  “You can’t expect me to spare you.” He wouldn’t have spared her, or Bethany, or Anders–he didn’t spare Cora, or the countless other people he terrorized.

Her blood ran hot as she thought about it, it felt electric in her veins.

“I’ve had enough! Men like you are always ‘so sorry.’ ”

She stabbed him. Her blade pierced through the left shoulder joint of his armor–she wouldn’t let him die quickly. That far too merciful for someone like him.

No, his death would be slow, she decided, painful and no one would hear him–not if she gagged him with his sash. It bared the symbol of the Chantry Sunburst and Filia adored the irony.

The first cut was easy–she dragged the tip of her sword across the flesh of his pale, bony cheek, leaving nothing a muffled scream and a stream of blood behind.

And then she took the plunge–past the joints of his armor and deep into his other shoulder blade. And then again.

She couldn’t hear his final words–not exactly. But she knew the sound of the name he called her–it was almost always the same.

‘Demon’ or ‘Monster,’ or something of the like.

Either way, the alley would stink of shit and rotten meat but Varric would handle the cleanup.

* * *

_I don’t remember all their names or even their faces._

_I’ve killed so many to keep them safe._

_I’d do anything to keep them safe._

_I’ll sacrifice anything and kill anyone who gets in my way._

* * *

Filia crept through the house after stripping off her bloodstained armor–she’d clean it come morning.

A stack of unanswered letters sat on the desk and there was a new one there–something set to the side to mark its importance: A letter from the Circle, from Bethany.

She smiled at the parchment and vowed to pen her answer in the morning.

She was hungry, worn, and tired–Filia wanted nothing else than to fall into her bed and sleep.

Careful not to disturb her dog who slept in peace across from the fireplace, she dragged herself toward the stairs, failing to realize the fire burning brightly in the hearth meant someone had been keeping them awake.

“Filia? Is that you Love?” His voice echoed quietly through the hall as he entered in from the kitchen.

“Anders?” She could feel her heart stirring in her chest–it felt so good to see his smiling face.  “You’re awake. I-Hi.”

“Hi.” They united with a kiss by the stairwell. “I was beginning to worry.”

“It isn’t that late is it?” She knew it was well past dinner, but returning home late was a common routine for them both, it wasn’t outside the ordinary.

“It isn’t, but Orana prepared your favorite meal,” he reminded, and her eye’s widened with surprise and grief.

“Of course she did. I was supposed to help her–I’m sorry I worried you. Was she alright by herself?”

“She was fine.” He took her hands in his own–they fit so perfectly. “I kept it warm for you.”

“You did?” Something swelled within her chest, something warm and heavy. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I thought you’d like to have it once you returned.”

“Thank you.” His gentle smile melted into a pleasurable hum as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His touch made the room much brighter, her daily burdens nearly melting away.

“Is everything alright?” She didn’t move for a while, so Anders rubbed little circles into her back, releasing bits of soothing magic, perfectly warm to the touch.

Filia nodded.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

Moments like this were her favorite part of the day.

It was well worth everything it took to keep them.


End file.
